


Spend The Night

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Spend The Night [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, College Student Dean Winchester, Cute, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: The reader doesn’t get along with her arrogant classmate, Dean, and it gets even worse when she loses a bet to him. But when he accidentally scares the reader later that night, he becomes an unexpected friend. Over the course of a week of impromptu sleepovers, Dean and the reader start to realize their feelings might not stop there…





	1. Chapter 1

You weren’t even supposed to be in this class. You hadn’t picked the 9:30 option. But with your shitty registration time last semester, there you were, stuck with the one no one wanted. 

You got over the time thing after a week. But Dean Winchester, that boy made your blood boil every time you saw him. Somehow, this cocky asshole was at the top of the class. You worked so hard for your grade and he put in no effort at all and was right there beside you.

“Morning, Y/N,” he said, as he walked past you in your seat. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a probably dirty t-shirt and pair of sweats. “Bet you spent all last night studying.”

“Yeah, I did,” you said as you squinted at him.

“Too bad the test isn’t on female anatomy. I got plenty hands on experience with that last night,” he said, cocking an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes as you did your best to ignore him. “Want to make this interesting?”

“Make what interesting, douchebag,” you said, reading over your notes. Dean looked around the room as he saw you two were still the only one’s there.

“You do better than me on the test today, I do whatever you want for a week. Boss me around, tell me to leave you alone, you got it, no questions asked,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you.

“And if I lose, you get the same thing. Sorry, Dean, don’t feel like selling my soul this morning,” you said, flipping a page. Dean shifted in his seat beside you but remained close.

“If I win, then I get to kiss you everyday for the next week. Just one little kiss. I won’t even make it dirty…unless you want that,” he said with smirk. 

You tilted your head, just staring at him with hard eyes. He wasn’t joking. The idea of spending an eternity in Hell seemed more appealing than kissing Dean Winchester seven times. 

“Fine, it’s a deal,” you said, holding up your hand, seeing a little bit of surprise on Dean’s face as he shook yours. He gave you a wink before he moved back to his normal seat on the other side of the room. You smiled to yourself, no way was he ever going to do better than you. 

 

Forty minutes later, you walked out confidently, seeing Dean still reading over his test, almost looking panicked.

“Sucker,” you said to yourself when you were out in the hall. You took the extra time before your next class to do some homework, catching Dean leave about twenty minutes later and not give you a second glance.  _Poor Boy, he thought he had a chance._

After your next class, you made your way over to the student lounge and were in the middle of enjoying your lunch when some familiar looking dirty blonde hair came into view.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, sitting down and unwrapping his sandwich before you could respond.

“Please, make yourself at home,” you said, spreading your arms wide. Dean chewed aggressively as you smirked. “It’s after noon.”

“Grades are gonna be up. You look at yours yet?” he asked, taking a large bite. You continued to eat for a moment before pulling out your laptop. You saw Dean do the same as both of you forwent your lunches to see who won. You smiled when you saw your grade. 

“Have fun shutting the hell up for the next week,” you said, turning your computer around and showing him your screen. He looked cold as he nodded.

“98, not bad,” he said, showing his computer to you. “But not as good as 99,” he smiled darkly.

“Fuck,” you said, grabbing your computer and shoving it back in your bag. Dean looked more than amused as you fumed, eating your salad like you were trying to rip it’s head off.

“At least I’m good looking,” he said, watching you disregard the rest of your lunch as you stood. “I think you owe me a kiss, Y/N,” he said with another smirk.

“How about you check back never,” you said, pulling on your bag and walking away before he could respond.

 

You let out a big yawn as you packed up your stuff. It was just after 9 as you headed out of the library, walking home towards your apartment. You’d forgotten all about your stupid bet until your heard the stupid voice that went along with it.

“Hi, Y/N,” said Dean, skipping down the steps of the gym, a little sweaty with his backpack over his shoulders. You brushed past him as you cut down the alley, knowing it’d save you time on your walk. 

“Go away, Dean,” you said when you heard his footsteps following you. You were beyond annoyed when one of his large hands found your shoulder and lightly turned you around. You took a step back and found yourself hitting a wall. Dean took a step forward as he put on that devilish grin he’d been wearing earlier.

“You still owe me a kiss for today,” he said, cockily as he rested his hands on your shoulders. You saw him lean in for a moment before everything in him shifted and he pulled back. “Are you okay? You’re trembling…and crying,” he said, his voice softer. 

“I’m fine,” you said, the weight of his hands on your shoulders feeling like a ton of bricks. That’s when you saw his eyes go wide and he took a step back, pulling his hands away.

“You think…I’m not going to hurt you, I swear,” he said, holding up his hands as he gave you more space. “Y/N, you got to believe me, I was never going to do anything. Just forget the whole bet,” he said, growing more panicked as he saw you still shaking.

“I just want to go home,” you said, not entirely sure why you were saying that aloud to him of all people. But a small part did and that’s why you got it in you to buck up for the tiniest of moments. “Please walk me home,” you asked, the shake in your voice worse than before.

“Of course,” said Dean, waiting for you to take the lead. He didn’t stay too close, still obviously afraid that he was what had set you off. About ten minutes later you were at your front door, Dean waiting on your steps. “Are you okay? Do you-”

“I’m not okay,” you turned around, giving him a sad smile. You opened your door but couldn’t bring yourself to walk into the dark little house. “Can you look?” you asked, forgetting about being embarrassed, that Dean was an ass and you were just as mean back.

“Can I look at what?” he asked, voice soft again as he took a step up. You half-laughed as you looked up at him with teary eyes.

“Make sure no one is in there,” you said, nodding inside. You were expecting him to make fun of you, say something snarky.

“Sure thing,” he said, gently rubbing your arm as he stepped past you. “Stay put for me and I’ll be right back.” You watched from the doorframe as he flicked on the light and looked around at your living room and kitchen, spotting nothing out of place. He opened one door and found your bathroom, the sound of the shower curtain opening filling the air. Dean came back out after a second and opened the other door to your room, the sound of your closet door opening and shutting quickly heard before Dean returned to your living room.

“Everything’s alright?” you asked, the space less scary with the lights on.

“Nobody’s here. It’s okay to come in,” he said, his green eyes watching you carefully. Safe in your apartment, you now had the common sense to feel completely ridiculous in front of him.

“Thanks,” you said, staring at the ground, hoping he’d leave and pretend this never happened. You heard his footsteps on the ground before you saw them come to a stop in front of you. You raised your head, ready to take whatever he was going to dish out.

“I really am sorry for scaring you like that,” he said. You saw it in his sad eyes, in his slumped shoulders. He was ashamed.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known,” you said, immediately regretting your word choice. You hoped he would let it slide but Dean was smart and you didn’t have to say it for him to understand.

“Someone’s hurt you before, haven’t they,” he said. You avoided looking at him, hated seeing that look of pity but when a finger grazed your cheek to turn you toward him, you saw something else on his face. A simple look of understanding.

“Thanks for walking me home. Let’s just forget about this and go back to hating each other on Thursday,” you said, stepping aside so he could leave.

“That doesn’t really work for me,” he said, putting a hand on your front door to shut it, a small shudder running through you. He sighed again. “Sorry. Still not going to hurt you,” he said, taking a step back. “While I enjoy the angry flirting thing we got going on, I’m kind of tired of being the boy that’s mean to the girl he likes.”

“Whatever, just go please,” you said, the shake still in your body. Dean took a step forward but hesitated.

“I really don’t think you should be alone tonight,” he said, indicating to your shaking body.

“You’re pretty much a stranger, Dean,” you sniffled.

“My favorite food is pie. Now it’s your turn,” he said with a smile.

“Huh?” you said, wiping your face dry.

“You now know me marginally better than you did thirty seconds ago. Imagine how much you’ll know in like three hours or by the morning,” he said. You shook your head. This was such a stupid idea.

“I swear if you do anything to me…” you said, giving him an opportunity to leave if he wanted it.

“I won’t hurt you, Y/N,” he said, your will finally caving. You nodded and locked up as Dean shed his backpack and shoes. 

“You kind of smell you know,” you told him. He smiled sheepishly.

“I was going to wash up at home,” he said, looking at the floor. 

“Well you know where the shower is. I’m going to try to calm down in the meantime,” you said, walking past him and into your room. By the time you’d changed into pajamas and were on your couch, Dean was exiting in a pair of clean sweats and tee.

“Feeling any better?” he asked, taking a spot on the other end of the couch. You nodded, not entirely sure but knowing having someone else in the house was comforting you. The room was quiet as you wrapped your arms around blanket covered knees. You nodded to the side, letting Dean know where to get one if he wanted. “You have soft blankets,” he said, sitting back down, taking up a similar position as you. His legs were longer though and you felt the tops of his toes lay over yours. “Your toes are freezing.”

“I know,” you said shyly, noticing that he wasn’t pulling away but instead moved his feet over the top of them to warm them up.

“You know that was a hard test today,” he said after a while. You nodded but shrugged. “So I got one more question right than you, big deal.”

“It comes so naturally to you, though. I studied all last night,” you said, watching his gaze drop.

“Well, I had to study all afternoon and all last night to get what I did so I’d say you’re the smart one,” he said, looking up to find you with a confused look. “I lied, Y/N. I always have to study, I study so much just to keep up with you.”

“So no girl last night?” you sighed, raising an eyebrow. Dean chuckled and you decided you liked that sound a lot.

“I behave on school nights,” he said with a smirk. “And the other ones too. I stopped being the douche you think I am after freshman year.”

“You’re not a douche, Winchester. Horrible at making friends like a normal person…but I guess even you found your way,” you said, resting your chin on your knees. You’d started to notice the way his voice calmed you down as he spoke.

“You didn’t like me this morning and now we’re friends, I’d say I’m doing okay for myself,” he said, his head falling to rest on his knees.

“Stop mimicking me,” you said, tilting your head to the side. Dean matched you before responding.

“I’m not mimicking anything,” he said with a smirk, a large one falling over your face as well. “I just wanted to see you smile,” he said. He stared a little too long before returning to a more comfortable position. “How could someone hurt you?” he said in a whisper.

You knew it was a rhetorical question so you simply sat, letting him get it out of his system. You started humming when Dean didn’t say anything further, his eyes simply looking, like he was memorizing you.

“Have you got any siblings?” you asked, pulling Dean from his thoughts. He gave you another smile before telling you he had a brother, before he asked you another question. That was how it went for the rest of the night, asking silly questions and serious ones, all the while Dean’s voice soothing your lingering fear away.

 

“Morning,” you heard a voice grumble from the other end of the couch. You yawned as you blinked a few times, finding Dean’s body curled up into yours, blankets strewn about. 

“Morning,” you said, staring at him with his bedhead. “You look cute,” you said absentmindedly. While your brain told you to be horrified at saying such a thing, Dean’s face told you he’d liked it and to let it go.

“Back at ya, baby,” he said, a chuckle following his words. 

“We should get up,” you said, not moving an inch. He was just so warm wrapped around you, you’d never leave if you had a choice.

“Want me to walk you to class this morning?” he asked.

“I’m a big girl, I can do it myself,” you said, sensing his disappointment. “Do you want to get lunch?” you asked, seeing the smile come back.

“Yeah. I’ve got loads more questions for you,” he said, stretching his body before resting a hand down on your leg. “When do you think we’ll be ‘besties’ by? Friday?” he asked, a giggle leaving you.

“We have more sleepovers I guarantee it,” you said, feeling his hand stroke your leg.

“Do you want me to spend the night tonight? I promise not to make a move or anything. You have a very comfortable couch by the way,” he said, snuggling himself into it.

“Do you want to stay over?” you asked. Dean nodded as his hands started gently rubbing your feet. He was giving you a foot massage? This man was toying very dangerously with that whole friendship line but you had a suspicion neither of you wanted to stop at “besties” as he’d put it.

“When’s your first class?” he asked, glancing at your clock to see it was about 9.

“9:30,” you said, seeing him nod that it was the same for him as well. With a groan, he reluctantly rolled off your couch and walked over to his backpack, putting on his shoes. He gave you a smile when he stood upright, one that turned surprised when you stood on your tip toes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“What was that for?” he asked, his cheeks flushing slightly. You shrugged.

“I never gave you one yesterday,” you said. “See you at lunch, Dean.” He laughed as he put a hand on the door.

“See you at lunch, Y/N.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader continue to get to know each other and spend another night together…

“Hi,” said Dean, a smile on his face when he sat at the table across from you and beside the red head raising her eyebrows. You had just sat down yourself when your friend Charlie spotted you and sat down, stealing part of your wrap.

“Hey, I’m Charlie,” she said to Dean as he settled in. 

“Dean,” he said, Charlie’s eyes shifting from him to you.

“Is he the same Dean that’s a dick?” she said. You groaned as you puffed out your cheeks, heat flooding to them as you gave her a death glare.

“That’s me,” said Dean, with a teasing smile.

“He’s not that bad. We’re friends now,” you said sheepishly. Charlie gave you a smirk as she looked between you and Dean, something devilish in her eyes.

“He’s cute,” said Charlie. “I mean, he’s tall, which you like, he’s got freckles, which you like, he’s got that hair that you like, he-” was all Charlie was able to get out before your hand was clamped over her mouth.

“Y/N, Charlie was sharing such helpful information. As your bestie in training, I think I should know these things, don’t you?” he said coyly, his lips curled up so high you could see his eyes smiling.

“Excuse me Winchester but I’m her bestie, thank you very much,” said Charlie as she pulled your hand away. You could tell she was joking but you saw Dean tense up slightly, as if her words had actually hurt.

“Charlie, be nice. Dean’s a good guy. There’s plenty of Y/N to go around,” you said, giving Dean a reassuring pat on his arm, his skin warm under you for the briefest of moments before you pulled away.

“Geez you two, don’t worry so much. Dean must have done something amazing to make you change your mind about him so if he’s joining the bestie team, that’s awesome,” said Charlie, her eyes on Dean to make sure he understood he could relax. When he finally did, she asked the obvious question. “So what  _did_  you do?”

“Hm?” asked Dean innocently, glancing to you for help.

“He walked me home last night when I got scared,” you said, leaving the rest out. Charlie didn’t need to know why you’d gotten scared in the first place after all.

“Nope, he ain’t going to be on team bestie.  _Team boyfriend now_ …” Charlie said with a grin.

“Dean, do me a favor and forget everything she’s said, okay?” you said, shaking your head as you laughed. You caught a glance at your phone as you cursed, seeing the message asking why you weren’t at the group meeting you were supposed to be at five minutes ago. “I gotta run,” you said, standing quickly. Dean was quick to follow suit as he stood. “You can hang out with Charlie. I’m sure you two will get along great.”

“So am I,” he said, giving Charlie a friendly smile before leaning to whisper in your ear. “But uh, when should I come over later?” he asked. 

“7? I’ll make us dinner,” you said with a smile, Dean doing a bad job of hiding the one on his face from Charlie.

“Are you two together?” asked Charlie as she eyed you.

“No,” you said in unison. 

“Of course not,” said Charlie as she rolled her eyes. “At least not yet.”

“I’ll see you later,” said Dean, handing you your backpack before sitting back down.

“Bye Charlie. See you tonight, Dean,” you said to them both as you started to walk away, catching the start of a conversation you desperately wish you could have overheard.

“Does she really like tall guys?” said Dean, just as you walked out of earshot.

 

It was a little before seven when your doorbell rang, a happy looking Dean Winchester waiting on the other side.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said as you motioned for him to come inside. “Smells delicious,” he said, taking off his shoes and setting down his bag. 

“What you got there?” you said, pointing at it. He rubbed the back of his head shyly.

“Um, my pajamas. Unless you changed your mind about me staying which is totally cool and I can just go home after dinner or hang out and then go or-”

“You promised to spend the night,” you said, looking at the floor for a moment.

“Sleepover night two then,” he said, your gaze coming up to meet his soft one. “We going to talk about boys tonight?” he said with a smirk.

“Quiet Winchester or I’ll make you braid my hair,” you said, pointing a playful finger at him.

“The horror!” he said with feigned shock before letting a few chuckles escape his lips. You turned your back to him so he wouldn’t see how much you really did like that sound, how the deep rumble of his chest eased you. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Ravioli’s,” you said, seeing Dean lick his lips. He wandered into the small kitchen, his head tilting up as he smelled the air as if he were trying to taste it.

“I haven’t had a home cooked meal in over a month,” he said, coming to lean up against your counter before sitting on top of it. 

“Poor boy,” you said with a smile, checking the pot of pasta as Dean picked up a spoon and stirred the sauce. “Feel free to come over and use my kitchen anytime you like.” 

“Yeah, okay,” he said with a skeptical look. You shoved his shoulder lightly.

“I’m serious. You can only survive off the meal plan for so long,” you said, watching him think it over. 

“Maybe every once in a while,” he said, “As long as I give you something in return.”

“You’ll be making me dinner, we’ll be even,” you said, brushing his leg to reach for the strainer behind him. He twisted his hand around his back and pulled it out, hopping off the counter. But he didn’t hand it to you.

“All done?” he asked. You nodded and took a step back, Dean grabbing the pot and draining the steaming liquid down your sink. You couldn’t help but cross your arms and give him a smirk. “I’m not going to be a complete free-loader, Y/N.”

He seemed to have a permanent smile on as he hummed, moving over to a pair of bowls you’d set to the side, filling them up before bringing over the sauce pan.

“How much you want?” he asked, pouring some on his before waiting for your answer. After he’d finish making your dish up as well, he put them on the far counter where you’d set two places.

“Sorry I don’t have a table,” you said, handing him a cold glass of water as you sat up on one of the two stools in your eat-in kitchen.

“Do you think I’m judging you or something?” he asked, his voice gentle. “You made me dinner and are letting me sleep on that amazing couch tonight. You’re pretty great, Y/N. Your lack of a dinning set doesn’t make me think any less of you.”

When you were staring into your plate, biting your bottom lip, Dean’s shoulder bumped into yours.

“Bestie…” he said with a little nervous laugh. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Thanks, Dean,” you said, letting him see the smile on your face, hoping he would ignore the slight pink you were sure was on your cheeks.

The two of you ate in an easy silence, only occasionally making small chit chat about your days. Dean asked if he could have seconds and you told him to go for it, glad you’d made extra that night. By the time you’d finished and cleaned up, it was around 8, Dean already seeming to have memorized which cupboard held the glasses, which one the bowls as he helped put them away.

“What do you want to do?” you asked, finding that without the lingering fear that had been with you the night before, you weren’t exactly sure how to go about having a sleepover with him.

“What do you normally do?” he asked, walking over to his bag. “I’m going to change if that’s alright. It’s more comfy,” he said, picking it up and stopping at your bathroom door. “Movie?” he said with a shrug.

“Sure,” you said, walking past him and into your own room to change. As you threw on a pair of black cotton shorts you realized you’d left your shirt in the bathroom. Opening your bedroom door, you saw the bathroom door ajar and pushed it open without thinking.

Dean had on a pair of dark blue plaid pants. But his gray tee was currently in his hands, his bare chest exposed for you to see.

“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly, turning the opposite way, ready to go bury your head in your pillow. Dean’s hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged gently, forcing you to look at him. He was simply smiling.

“Need something sweetheart?” he asked, not sexual, not cocky, but actual genuine concern. 

“S-Shirt,” you said, moving your hand to point at the top of your hamper, Dean’s moving with you. He released you before turning to grab it and hand it to you.

“Here you go,” he said, a little surprise on his face. “This is really soft,” he said, his fingers rubbing against the material. 

“Mhm,” you said, taking a sheepish step back towards your bedroom, pulling the shirt over your head before you plopped on your bed. 

He was…handsome. You’d just busted in on him changing because you were an idiot and now he probably thought you were some kind of peeping tom. He had a pretty face, that was apparent to you even when you thought he was mean. 

But now you’d had to go and see him shirtless, see the strong muscles on that towering build, see the strength of those broad shoulders, the soft flesh, the solidness. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Dean laughed from the doorway as you remembered he was still there. You simply groaned and heard him take a few steps into the room. “You worry too much kiddo,” he said, his weighty hand on the small of your back, urging you to stand. “Come on, movie time.” 

He gave you another pat as you rolled to sit up, his hands on yours pulling you forwards. He gave you a smirk as he walked backwards until you were in your living room. You took a seat at one end of the couch, watching Dean take out a blanket for himself and one for you.

“Use the dark green one buddy,” you said, Dean putting the one he’d used the night before back. He let out a sound that was almost like a moan when his fingers felt it.

“This is nice,” he said as you chuckled.

“It gets better,” you said, watching as he spread it out and discovered it was much longer than a normal blanket, perfect for his long length.

“Can I keep this?” he asked, settling down on the couch, snuggling into the warm blanket, his long legs sprawling out over yours.

“Dean,” you said with a giggle, his legs trapping yours underneath. “How am I supposed to get the remote?” you said, turning to the side where it sat on the TV stand.

“You aren’t,” he said with a devious smile. “I want to talk to you, not watch some show,” he said, leaning his head against the back of the couch. 

“I like talking to you too,” you said, leaning your head against the couch as well. He squinted, you following suit.

“Oh, who’s mimicking who now?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. You stared back from the other end of the couch, feeling Dean shift his legs so they covered your bare legs as much as possible, providing another layer of warmth. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Winchester,” you said, crossing your arms with a coy smile. He sat up suddenly, leaning in close, you doing the same, only a few inches separating you.

“How far you willing to go with this, Y/N?” he said with a smirk. You answered by giving him a kiss on the cheek, short but longer than the one that morning.

“You get five more Dean,” you said, sitting back, your lips still tingling from his scruff. 

“I’ve got to respect that,” he said, sitting back as well. “You honor your bets.”

“My parents raised me right. Now Dean, what do you want to talk about tonight?” you said, feeling Dean’s hand rest on your leg, his body slouching down so you knew he wasn’t moving from that spot for the rest of the night.

“Want to be on the same team tomorrow?” asked Dean. You nodded your head. Dean and you had made it clear to your entire class that you’d rather be burned at the stake than be put in the same group for debate days.

“Ain’t going to be much of an argument now that we’re working together,” you said, your weekly shouting matches with Dean becoming something of a source of humor for everyone. Boy were they in for a surprise tomorrow.

“Thought about what we’re having for dinner tomorrow night? I was thinking we could get something out, no Friday classes and all,” he said, his eyes soft but curious.

“Are we having another sleepover?” you asked, nuzzling your body against his more and more. Dean looked a little nervous but you weren’t leaving him without a lifeline. “Do you want to spend the night again?” you asked, grinning.

“Yes,” he said, leaving it at that. Tonight, you found you were the one staring a little too long, wondering if this was temporary or if sleepovers on the couch would turn into sleepovers between the sheets. But the way he was looking at you, he was perfectly content to take this slow.

“Dean, what’s your favorite kind of pie?” you asked, easily remembering the first fact you’d learned about him, taking you out of the long stares and back to the moment.

“Don’t even get me started,” he said, hands coming to rub your feet. “You got your standard apple…” he began, your mind wandering to how comfortable you felt next to him. So you listened for the next half hour to Dean talk about pie, and did he like pie alright, slowly slipping into a bubble of happiness as his voice continued on. He could talk about nothing and it’d be the greatest thing you’d ever heard.

Eventually he finished, asking you a question that sent you into your own tangent, a silly smile on his face to match the one on yours. The questions flowed back and forth easy until they died out, only deep breaths and light snores falling from Dean, your own body finally letting sleep overcome it at the sight.

 

You woke up to find Dean’s legs tucking you against the couch, keeping you from falling off and onto the floor. One eye found his as you fluttered them open and saw the sleepy affection on his face.

“Morning beautiful,” he said, his tired eyes shining.

“Babe,” you said with a laugh, biting your lip.

“You tried rolling off on me last night,” he said, his legs shifting. “Maybe tonight I sleep on the edge of the couch,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Or my bed,” you said quietly. “If you want,” you said with a shrug.

“I’m sure our backs would appreciate it,” he said, sitting up.

“I mean, for the sake of our backs we probably should,” you said, sheepishly.

“I can’t argue with that logic,” he said, tiling his head. “Want to skip class and just lay here?” he said, already knowing your answer.

“Tomorrow morning we can sleep in,” you said, patting his leg, feeling him react pleasantly under your touch.

“Fine,” he sighed before chuckling. “Come on, you got to get dressed so we can run to my place and then get to class.”

“You mean you don’t want everyone to see you in those cute pants?” you joked, sitting up and standing. As you walked towards your bedroom you heard Dean mumble something to himself you couldn’t quiet make out.

“Only you,” he said, just after you were out of earshot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader have their third sleepover…

“Dean, Y/N, would you two please stay after class?” asked your professor after you’d finished your debate. The two of you gave a nervous glance to the other as you sat beside one another before turning and nodding to him. The rest of the class both you and Dean were quiet, not participating like normal. You’d crushed the opposing side as you tried to ignore the way people looked at you. You would have thought you’d grown a second head with the alarmed faces they had.

“Professor, did we do something wrong?” asked Dean when it was just the three of you in the room. You were stood by his side as you both waited for a response.

“You both did very well on your tests Tuesday which I was expecting. Seeing the two of you not tearing at each other’s throats today, well that was certainly a change,” he said with raised eyebrows as he crossed his arms.

“Wait, are you upset because we were on the same team?” asked Dean, a little too defensively as you widened your eyes at him.

“Dean, quiet,” you said, bumping his arm with yours. He turned to give you a glare. He was going to be mad about that later you could tell.

“I’m glad you’re getting along now,” said your professor to the two of you with a quick smile. “You two have never been…let’s just say there’s been more than a few times I thought you were going to cross a line and I’d have to report my best students. So no Dean, I’m not upset.”

“Then what’s going on?” you asked, seeing Dean still tense around you. Your professor laughed.

“If you two are going to be on the same team from now on, calm it down a little. It became obvious today that the other students have become dependent on you two leading discussions. Next week, sit back and let them try please?” he said. Both you and Dean nodded before you headed off to your next classes.

“Want to get lunch later?” you asked when you were in the hall with Dean. 

“No,” he said a little cold. You dropped your gaze and looked at his feet. “I’ll be over around seven,” he said, walking away.

“Did you still want to go out to eat tonight?” you asked. He only shrugged.

“Sure. See you later,” he said without turning around. You swallowed thickly. 

“Why is he so mad?” you whispered to yourself, trying to force yourself to forget about him for the rest of the day.

 

“Hi,” you said a little quietly when you opened your door that night. Dean gave you a smile as he stepped inside, tossing his bag with pajamas on the floor. He didn’t take off his shoes and you gulped.

“Stop,” he said suddenly, your gaze finding his. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you said, looking at anything but him.

“Like the way you looked at me in that alley. I’m never going to hurt you,” he said, his voice forceful with concern hidden underneath.

“Why were you mad earlier, why are you still mad?” you asked, looking at the floor. His hand found your chin and lifted it up so you would see his face.

“I don’t know,” he said. Dean Winchester might have been the first person in your life that wasn’t lying when he said that. “I just know I feel very protective of you.”

He shifted awkwardly as he brought his hand down to rub against your arm. He looked away before back at you.

“If we were in trouble, I wanted to take all the blame and you weren’t going to let me. You wouldn’t let me…” he trailed off.

“Protect me?” you finished for him. His hand stopped on your arm. “I never had anyone who would do that for me.”

“What are friends for,” he said, dropping his hand away but not without brushing against yours first.

“Talk to me about that stuff okay? So I don’t spend the whole day thinking you don’t like me again,” you said with a smile. He nodded before giving one in return.

“Want to go grab some dinner?” he asked, holding out a hand for you. You reached out yours, feeling his strong and rough one take your small soft one in his. 

“Want to go to College Place?” you said, expecting him to take you to one of the places on campus. He shook his head as he grabbed your purse and led you outside. You spotted a muscle car in front of your place and raised your eyebrows.

“I was thinking somewhere a little nicer,” he said, standing by your side as he tugged you forward gently. “If you don’t mind,” he said, walking down your front path and opening the passenger door for you.

“Not at all,” you said, sliding in, more than a little curious of what he had in mind. Nearly three hours later when Dean was parking in front of your apartment you were still smiling. He’d taken you somewhere that had real plates and wait staff and had told you to order whatever you wanted. You tried to argue that the costs of his dinner the night before were a fraction of what the menu had listed. He simply said if you could beat him in an arm wrestle, you were free to pay for your meal. 

That went over with Dean slamming your fist against the table in half a second.

“How about we do something fun this weekend,” he said as he leaned against your doorframe, watching as you unlocked the front door. 

“Sounds good to me,” you said back, opening the door, noticing you’d forgotten to turn on a light. Dean held out a hand as he stepped in first, flipping the switch and instantly dropping it as you came in after.

“I’m going to change,” he said, kicking off his boots and grabbing his bag. “What?” he asked as he noticed your staring.

“Nothing,” you said, a sweet smile on your face. “You’ll know where to find me,” you said as you locked up and headed past him into your room. You pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt, even if you were a little cold. Dean would keep you plenty warm.

Dean was already in your kitchen, making a bag of popcorn as he gave you a smile. He was wearing forest green flannel pants tonight and a black tee, his green eyes looking so pretty as you took him in.

“It’s going to be freezing tonight, Y/N,” he said shaking his head. He wandered over to the back of your couch where he had his hoodie draped over it. “Put this on for me sweetheart,” he said, tossing it to you as he walked back to the beeping microwave. You didn’t protest and were glad you hadn’t. It was huge, soft and warm. But most of all it smelled like Dean and something about that made you feel calm and safe.

“Thanks,” you said, sliding into the kitchen as you stole the big bowl of popcorn out of his hands. 

“Let’s watch a movie kiddo,” he said, ruffling your hair as he walked past, but then patting it down to fix it. When he dropped his hands, he stole the bowl back and had it high over his head by the time you were reaching for it.

“Dean!” you shouted, jumping and failing miserably to come close to the thing, making Dean laugh.

“Oh, you wanted some?” he said, grabbing you by the waist and pulling your body tight against his. With one arm, he lifted you off the ground and twirled you against him. 

“Dean,” you giggled, unable and not wanting to hide the sound from him.

“Maybe I just keep all this popcorn and you to myself,” he said with a chuckle, spinning you round a few times before finally setting you down. You were blushing hard and made your way over to the couch, taking the bowl from Dean as he grabbed the blanket he noticed you liked, his green one and the remote.

“What we watching?” you asked as you shifted to lean your head on his shoulder, as he was already wrapping his arm over your shoulders. You laid the blankets out for the two of you as he handed back the popcorn, Dean taking charge of the remote.

“I was thinking something scary,” he said, turning on the television but quickly noticing your pout. “What, you don’t like scary movies?”

“I get scared and then I can’t sleep,” you said, looking up at him. He gave you a soft smile as you felt his lips press themselves to your forehead for a little longer than what you’d call a moment.

“I’ll protect you,” he said, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. 

“Okay,” you said, your slight hesitation melting away. “That counts by the way,” you said with a smirk.

“Only four kisses left? That’s not fair,” he said, a fake frown on his face. 

“You made the rules babe,” you joked, a sudden silence falling over the room. You could feel Dean tense just as you were certain he could feel you do the same. But it quickly passed and the two of you fell back into simple conversation as Dean was careful to pick out something that wouldn’t scare you too much.

Dean stole the bowl a few times, once even stopping the movie so you could try to throw pieces in the other’s mouth. Dean was happy and you found yourself making more fun of the movie than being afraid, ignoring that his arm around you probably had something to do with it. 

That didn’t mean that cuddling up with him wasn’t thus far one of the best feelings of your life.

“Can I sleepover tomorrow?” he asked half-way through the movie. “I’ve got an idea of what we might want to do during the day and figured-”

“Of course, Dean,” you said, snuggling into his chest as you felt him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Awesome, thanks,” he said. You were more than excited to get to spend the day with him but despite all that energy running through you, Dean was just too comfortable to not fall asleep on.

 

When you woke up, you were tucked between the couch and Dean, his face so close to yours as you felt his arm under your head. His hand was resting on your hip, your arm wrapped around his waist. He was warm and all muscle, body tight against yours, his chest rising and falling slowly.

You two had cuddled all night long. 

But before you could take in all the freckles on his face, the feeling of his hot breath falling over you, he began to stir.

“Morning,” he said with a smile, before he even opened his eyes. He shifted his head and his scruff tickled your cheek, the sensation making you giggle. “Is someone ticklish?”

You had no chance to deny it before Dean was carefully nuzzling against you, his long fingers grazing your sides, making you a squirming mess beside him.

“Dean!” you squealed out between laughs, trying your best to regain any composure and failing. Eventually Dean took pity on you, letting out a laugh so big, you felt the rumble of his chest shake through your body.

“Hi,” he said, a big smile on his face as his green eyes flickered.

“Hi,” you said back softly, your eyes trailing down to his lips for a second. You both stopped and just watched for what felt like an eternity before looking away at the same time. “Breakfast?”

“Sounds great,” he said, shifting away from you, sitting the both of you upright.

“So what do you have planned today, Winchester?” you asked, stretching your body out as Dean did the same.

“You’ll have to wait and find out,” he said with a wink. “First, food.”

“I’ve got pancakes and bacon,” you said, watching his eyes go wide at the prospect of something other than cereal.

“I love you,” he said with a laugh, standing and practically skipping into your kitchen. You smiled to yourself as you followed after.

“Hey, it’s Friday,” you said, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Did I make best friend status yet?” he joked, recalling his comment from a few days ago.

“I don’t offer bacon to anyone, Dean,” you said, reaching up to pat down his bedhead. He smiled sheepishly.

“I must be special,” he said, doing the same to fix yours, his fingers running through your hair sending a shiver up your spine.

“Yeah, you certainly are.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader spend their fourth night together…

“Pizza?” you asked Dean as you waited by the passenger door for him to grab his bag from his trunk. When he slammed it shut, he only stared off into the distance, looking at the other side of the street. “Paging Dean Winchester,” you said a little louder.

“Yeah, pizza’s great,” he said with a smile, throwing his arm over your shoulders as he walked you to your front door.

It was about 9, already pitch black out by the time you’d gotten back. Dean had driven you two hours to a theme park that day, something you hadn’t been to in years. When he decided he wanted to have fun, he had fun.

“Okay, I’ll order, you shower and then I’ll take one. I know I smell gross after running around all day,” you said, unlocking the door. 

“You smell like apples,” he said, his body turned away from yours.

“Yeah, right,” you said skeptically, taking a step in and feeling Dean close behind you as he locked up. “You okay?”

“Never better,” he said with a smile, walking around your apartment before wandering into the bathroom. He was only in there for four minutes, barely enough time for you to have ordered after being on hold.

“It’ll be here about 20 minutes,” you said, slapping a twenty down on the counter. “You didn’t have to save me that much hot water, Dean,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t take that long,” he said, lightly shoving your shoulder. “Go wash up and we’ll watch something while we eat.”

When you finally exited the bathroom in your fresh pajamas, you saw Dean standing up, staring out your front window. The pizza was sitting on your counter so it was obvious he was looking for something else.

“Dude, you’re starting to freak me out,” you said, seeing him flinch at your voice. He quickly pulled your shades down and gave you a friendly smile.

“Want two slices?” he said, bypassing you and opening up the box. He threw a couple on a plate before handing it to you.

“We going to ignore you being weird tonight?” you asked, not unfolding your arms. Dean sighed and you could have sworn he was a little scared. “I won’t ask again,” you said, putting your hands up in defeat, taking the plate. You sat on the couch and put Dean’s hoodie on again, your hair still damp. 

Dean took a seat right up against you, his cheeks stuffed with cheesy goodness as he threw an arm over you shoulder. For a moment you ate in silence, Dean relaxing and tensing against you to the point it was driving you nuts. But you wouldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to.

“There was a guy across the street when we got home,” said Dean suddenly, your face scrunching up in confusion. “He was just, I don’t know, watching the house from a front porch.”

“You think some psychopath is going to break in here?” you said, moving his arm so you could hold it.

“Why aren’t you more concerned, I would be. I mean, I’m concerned,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. You could tell he was lying on that front. He looked pretty terrified to you.

“Dean, sweetie,” you said, trying to be soft and reassuring. “That’s my neighbor. He’s head of the neighborhood watch. I’m sure he thinks you’re up to no good bringing a car like that around.”

Dean looked ready to argue back when he saw how calm you were. He let out a groan as he tried to shift away from you, your hands on him keeping him from doing so.

“Can we forget this happened?” he asked, stealing your crust, trying to move the conversation elsewhere.

“You know, you  _have_  stolen my popcorn and now my pizza. Maybe I should go report you to him,” you said, throwing him a smirk as you stood up. “Don’t want bad boys like you corrupting this nice little street.”

“Already have, sweatshirt thief,” he said, following after you with a smile of his own. You walked around to the back of the couch, noticing Dean pick up his pace. “Maybe you give that back and I won’t report  _you_.”

“It looks better on me,” you said, raising your eyebrows as Dean started backing you into your kitchen.

“It sure does,” said Dean, his voice a little sultry and you nearly went wide eyed at the statement. But soon you were back to playing, both of you ignoring his word choice as you managed to change directions to head down the hall. “Good luck dodging me now sweetheart,” he said with a laugh.

You could have easily made it into your bedroom if you wanted, opened and shut the door before he got there.

But then you had to go and trip on your own feet, giving Dean plenty of time to get close by the time your back hit the door.

“H-Hey,” you said casually, your shrug hidden under his overflowing hoodie. 

“Hey,” he said back with a devilish grin. His muscular arms wrapped around you tight, lifting you off the ground like nothing and carrying you into your living room. He spun you around a few times  for good measure as you both laughed before setting you down. “I  _suppose_ you can keep it,” he said, feigning sadness.

“Such a gentleman,” you said, moving your arms out of the material.

“Y/N, all kidding aside, keep it, really. You keep me warm enough,” he said, his hand on yours pulling it back down through the sleeve. “I run hot,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah you do,” you muttered to yourself.

“Hmm?” Dean asked as he stood, clearing away your plates.

“I’ve got ice cream if you want it, I said,” you said, laying out your blankets for the night. 

“You’ve got a pint of chocolate if you want to share,” he said, as you heard him open the freezer. “Sure you won’t be too cold?”

You hummed back and he was back in a flash with two spoons, sharing his blanket with you. You raised an eyebrow as he handed you a utensil. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll eat all this by myself and make you watch,” he said, holding the carton of of reach. You only smiled as you settled yourself in beside him. “Good girl.”

You didn’t argue as you tried to pretend that his nicknames meant anything more than a guy hanging out with a girl, that he wanted to feel your legs against his for than purely ensuring you weren’t cold, that he hadn’t gotten bowls so you wouldn’t have to clean them. As he was trying to pop the lid off, you leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

You could feel his heat on your lips, taste your soap on his skin from when he’d washed up. But it was a little salty too. Heavy and dark, something rigid in that softness that you liked.

“Three to go,” you said, a low murmur running through your words. Dean only chuckled as he finally got the top to come off. 

“Kisses or sleepovers?” he said after a moment, letting you take the first scoop. You squinted as he shook his head. “Just because the bet’s over doesn’t mean we have to stop…this,” he said, taking a spoonful for himself.

“I sleep better with you here,” you said absentmindedly. Once upon a time you would have chastised yourself for saying such a thing but with Dean it seemed okay to let the walls down.

“So do I,” he said, not guilty or ashamed. “I like it much better than the dorms.”

“Would you be okay with a roommate?” you asked, stealing the carton from him. He shrugged.

“I suppose,” he said, stealing it back with no effort. 

“Maybe next semester you can move in with someone,” you said, looking at him.

“If I found the right person, maybe,” he said. You took one more spoonful to distract yourself but regretted it. He felt you shiver next to him and was taking your spoon away before you could argue. 

“Dean, seriously?” you said, feeling his body heat leave you for a moment to stop in the kitchen and come back empty handed. 

“Dean Winchester actually,” he said, watching you roll your eyes. He kneeled on the couch at his normal spot before throwing you a smirk. Then he was falling forward, trapping you underneath him as he moved the blankets so you were both covered.

“Oh my…you are such a dork!” you said, shifting Dean so his body caged yours in between him and the back of the couch, his deep chuckle filling the air.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, his arms and legs wrapped around you so that the chill in your body soon faded away.

“I normally go for a nice long run on Saturday’s at the park,” you said, watching his eyes watch yours.

“Can I come?” he asked, like he was afraid you’d say no.

“Sure, I’d enjoy the company,” you said, reaching your arm up to stretch out around him because it was more comfortable that way you swore. Dean gave you a sleepy smile as he muttered goodnight, noting how you were practically asleep in his arms.

“You don’t do this at 5 in the morning do you?” he asked, popping one eye open.

“We can go whenever you want, Winchester,” you said, nuzzling your forehead against his head for a moment. 

“Sounds good to me,” said Dean quietly before drifting off to sleep. 

 

“Morning,” you said with a yawn to the handsome face staring at you. When you woke up, you could tell Dean had already been awake for some time. 

“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, wiping away some of your dried drool. You closed your eyes but Dean’s rumbling chest filled with laughter brought you out of it. “A light breakfast and then go on our run?”

“Sure,” you said, stretching upwards but then finding yourself reaching for him, feeling Dean let you without any tension in his body. Dean’s legs were still intertwined with yours, his head nuzzling yours in the crook of his neck as you noticed he was still holding you too.

“Well let’s go,” he said, pausing just a moment before actually moving away. “I can spend the night again, right?”

“Saturday nights were made for sleepovers. We should have an actual one tonight with all the stupid stuff you do at them,” you said, watching him stand.

“I can’t wait,” said Dean with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader spend their fifth night together having a real sleepover…

“Alright, up and at ‘em, Dean,” you said, shaking his shoulder. He was passed out, snoring softly on your bed. “Dean…” you said, putting both hands on him now and give him a little shove.

“I’m up,” he grumbled, wiping at his eyes. “Thanks for the nap,” he said as he yawned.

“It gave me a chance to do homework,” you said, resting your hand on his shoulder as he stretched and stared up at you with a sleepy smile. “Which Mr. Winchester…”

“I know  _mom_ ,” he said, not moving as he gave a smirk. “I don’t have much.”

“Well you better go do it or I won’t let you go to your sleepover tonight,” you said, putting your hands on your hips.

“Wouldn’t want to miss that,” he said, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair, making it stick up before he patted it down. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, stumbling a step when he stood. You crossed your arms and saw him sigh. “Sorry I lied.”

“I enjoyed the company, Dean, really I did. But you didn’t have to come running if you don’t like it and we certainly didn’t have to go so far that you pass out when we get home,” you said. You took his bicep in your hand, helping him a few steps before he steadied himself and could do it on his own.

“Maybe we go a little shorter next weekend?” asked Dean, turning back with soft green eyes. 

“Definitely. I don’t like when you’re…” you trailed off, not sure exactly what you wanted to say. Thankfully Dean let it be as he headed down your hall, waiting for you.

“So you kicking me out finally?” he said, a puppy dog look on his face. You would have loved for him to stay the rest of the day but he had homework, you had chores and he’d be back in just a few hours anyway.

“Yes,” you said somewhat reluctant, tugging on his arm to pull him over to his shoes but finding him hold firm. Dean was smiling as he crossed his arms and gave you a look that dared you to try. You moved to his side and put two hands on him, pushing on him as hard as you could, finding him planted firmly to the ground.

“I see this is going very well for you,” he said, his legs spread wide as you started pushing off the ground. “No, keep doing that. I’m sure it’ll work eventually,” he said, with a shit-eating grin.

You were determined now as you grabbed hold of his arm and kicked your feet up to push off the counter edge. You pushed hard and found Dean did move that time, your body falling to the ground as a result.

“Woah tiger, you’re cuter when you don’t have brain-trauma,” he said as a pair of strong arms came between your head and the hardwood floor below. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, having felt the thump of his arms hitting the ground below you.

“I’m fine. My fault for teasing anyways,” he said, helping you sit up. “I’ll be back at seven with some stuff for tonight. Try to stay in one piece until I get back, kiddo,” he said, the both of you standing.

“Yes, sir,” you said, finding him reaching out and giving you a quick hug and kiss to your forehead before walking to his shoes.

“I mean it now,” he said, giving a warning glance. You rolled your eyes but found yourself laughing regardless.

“See you later, Dean,” you said, holding up two fingers and waving them at him.

“Really? Only two left?” he said as he slung his bag over his shoulder, keys in hand.

“Later, Dean,” you said with a wave, closing up after he skipped down your front steps. 

 

“What is this?” you asked as you opened the front door, finding Dean carrying an extra bag and two pizzas that night.

“It’s a sleepover. I brought the essentials,” he said, scooting past you and inside. He dropped his bag with clothes and some of his stuff in it’s usual spot, kicking off his boots and bringing the other items into your kitchen. He sat the pizza’s down and opened up the other bag, making you giggle.

“Oreos, extra buttery popcorn, cookie dough ice cream, a cheesy rom-com, and…two flashlights?” you said, pulling them out with confusion.

“You’ll see,” he said, taking them from you and putting them on the counter. “How’d I do on the junk food front?”

“You went a little overboard, bud,” you said, pulling out some plates and bowls for the two of you.

“Leftovers for tomorrow. I was thinking ahead,” he said, pointing at his head.

“So nutritious,” you said, pulling out a slice for yourself and turning to grab some drinks for you. When you came back, you saw two more slices, cookies and a bowl of ice cream waiting for you. 

“It’s Saturday, live a little,” he said, moving past you to toss the popcorn bag in the microwave. You raised your eyebrows and were about to argue that you didn’t need it but Dean put a finger to your lips. “You’re going to lose this battle sweetheart.”

“You know I’ll never be able to eat all that, right?” you said, handing him a drink.

“Of course I know that. I put some on there for me to steal obviously,” he said, picking up your items and putting them on your coffee table. You waited for him to come back before you ate your dinner, Dean living up to his word and eating your scraps or what was too much for you without thinking you would burst entirely.

“How do you keep in shape like that when you eat like this all the time?” you asked, a hand over your stomach as you put your plate in the sink.

“Good genes,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re going to have such a dad bod someday,” you said with a laugh, patting him on his stomach. 

“I hear the ladies are into that nowadays,” he said, pulling the still warm popcorn out of the microwave. “I’m-”

“Going to change,” you said, already heading down the hall into your room. You were back in two minutes but Dean was somehow always faster. He was picking at the bowl of freshly popped kernels, leaning over it with his back to you. He had on dark gray flannel pants tonight, a navy tee hidden under his gray hoodie he had on. You smiled as you walked over in your black shorts and dark blue shirt.

“I see you got the memo,” he said, noticing how you had on the same outfits. “Most of it anyways,” he said, picking up a piece and holding it as he stared at you. You opened your mouth and saw him take aim, getting it in on the first attempt.

“We’ll we’ve both got black undies on,” you said with a smirk, watching as Dean pulled his pants up shyly. “That was a guess by the way.”

“I was referring to your distinct lack of warmer wear,” he said, a hand on your arm noticing your goosebumps. “Here,” he said, taking his hoodie off and moving to put it over your head. It was warm like always but with Dean’s body heat still in the fabric, you nearly let out a moan.

“I’m fine,” you said, feeling Dean flop the large hood down over your face.

“What did you ever do before me?” he said, a smile on his face as you pushed the material up to see him and rest on your head. There were quite a few ways to answer that question if you were being honest.

“I put on one of my sweatshirts,” you said, seeing a flicker of pride flash across Dean’s face.

“There’s your problem! You need something rugged to keep you warm, not those thin things that girls think are cute,” he said, watching you push up one of the sleeves to grab a piece of popcorn. “Keep that one. It seems to do the trick for you.”

“Thanks,” you said, grabbing another piece and popping it in your mouth. “Movie?” you said, turning away, wanting to get away from this conversation.

“Sure,” said Dean, following after with the bowl. You started the movie you’d seen a thousand times, seeing Dean nestled into the middle of the couch as you walked back over to him. You went to sit beside him but found him nodding his head. “Here,” he said, pointing to the ground in front of him where he’d put a pillow.

“Well you did buy me dinner first but-”

“God no, Y/N,” said Dean, even though he knew you were joking. “You made a crack the other night about braiding hair…”

“Oh my God you want to braid my hair,” you said, your hands going to your face to hide your wide smile. “This’ll be fun,” you said, taking a seat in front of Dean. It was already in a pony so all he had to do was the braiding part.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he said, one of his hands on your shoulder as the other lightly took the pony tail in his hand. “Your hair feels so nice,” he said as you felt him stroke it and start to play with the strands.

“It’s not that hard, just…go for it,” you said, settling back and waiting for Dean to start a whole new level of ridiculousness in your friendship.

“This is stupid, I shouldn’t-”

“Come on, you offered to play with my hair,” you said, a small whine coming through to try and let him know you weren’t making fun of him.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, moving both hands to the back of your head.

Ten minutes later you were laughing but not from the movie. Dean must have tried to braid your hair about 100 times now, never once figuring out the simple weaving pattern. But it sure was funny listening to him try.

“You know what? You look amazing with this pony tail. I think that’s a much better look for you, Y/N,” he said as you could tell he was giving up. 

“Really?” you said, reaching up and pulling the hair tie off and your hair falling down before Dean knew what hit him. “Why don’t you give me that instead?” you said, handing him the hair tie.

“Please tell me this will be easier,” he said, pulling it onto his wrist. You decided to take pity on him and guide him through it this time.

“Give me your hands,” you said, reaching yours up behind you as if you were about to put your own hair up. You felt Dean put his in yours as you ran your fingers over them. “First you take your hands and collecting all the hair, run it over my head like this,” you said, bringing his hands down to run over your hair, moving his thumbs with yours to collect the pieces.

“Okay,” he said, sounding more confident, his hands moving back across your scalp to flatten down the few spots he’d missed. You shut your eyes and were glad he couldn’t see your face, the sensation of him giving you a head massage almost too much.

“Once you have it all, take the hair in one hand, use your other hand to pull on the hair tie and slip the hair through the opening and slide it off your wrist and to the back of my head. Then you just twist it and pull the hair through again and twist it one more time and it should be all set,” you said, letting your hands fall from his.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, suddenly concerned at the mention of twisting and snapping.

“You won’t. Go ahead and try for me,” you said, knowing this would be an easier task for him. He took a deep breath and about ten seconds later he was tugging it firmly in place.

“Why didn’t you tell me to do that in the first place!” he said, still running his fingers through the strands. You shrugged, not wanting to say that you liked him playing with your hair.

“So…” you said, sitting back up on the couch, the movie now acting simply as background noise, “What’s up with the flashlights?”

“Well we have to go outside for that,” he said, jumping to his feet and pulling you with him. You already knew what he was getting at as he swiped the items off the counter and dragged you out your front door. Dean tossed you one of the lights before he took off.

“You’re a child, you know that right?” you called after, not hesitating to flip the thing on and chase after him. 

For the next who even knew how long, you ran around outside, acting like a kid again with Dean, playing tag and other games until you were too cold to continue. Dean was a little sweaty when you were back in the warmth of your apartment, his face flush as he gave you a grin. You gave him one back as you took up a spot on the couch. Dean turned off the movie that was nearly over and settled in for the night next to you, pulling you down to his side before giving you one long last smile goodnight.

 

Someone was touching you. You lived alone and someone was touching you. Hands were on your arms, had you pulled up against a chest, legs wrapped close around you.

“No!” you yelled, pulling your arm away and colliding it with something soft. A deep voice grunted and you crawled out from him, your knees hitting the ground hard before you stood, your foot catching on a table and making you fall to the floor. You heard him shift and you spun around, kicking your feet along the hardwood underneath until your back hit the wall behind you. 

“Y/N,” said a voice, one you now recognized as a light was switched on. Dean was on your couch, tangled up in two blankets, his left cheek swollen as he looked at you hiding from him on the other side of the room.

“Oh god…” you said. “That was just a nightmare.”

“Yeah, you were yelling and whimpering…I was trying to wake you up,” said Dean, sitting up but not coming towards you at all. “Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you said, knowing how obvious it was that wasn’t true. Dean only nodded as he watched with concerned green eyes. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

You stood and walked over slowly but didn’t make it all the way there. You made a pit stop in the kitchen, running cold water over your knuckles that ached and pulling out an ice pack from your freezer.

“Sorry,” you said, handing it to Dean who had remained seated but made sure he could keep an eye on you.

“Nice right hook,” he joked, putting the pack to his face, flinching a little at the sensation. You pulled your blanket out from under him and debated going and sleeping in your bed. “Sit,” he said gently, leaning up against the couch, making a spot for you in his lap. You stared at his face and regretted it. You couldn’t hide the look on yours before he could see how upset you were.

But you didn’t argue and climbed into the warm spot, sitting back onto Dean, feeling the weight of the blankets on top of you, his heavy arms and legs over yours holding you close.

“I don’t want to talk about it Dean,” you said, trying to fight away the panic and let yourself enjoy this, enjoy his safety. Dean didn’t speak but began to hum. It wasn’t a tune you recognized but the small rumble of Dean’s chest on your back started to work it’s magic, lulling you away from the feelings of the nightmare and into the present. “I had a nightmare,” you said suddenly, Dean going quiet.

“It’s okay. I think this is helping, you aren’t breathing so hard now,” he said, unaware that you’d even done that in the first place. 

“It was about…” you trailed off, Dean tucking your head under his chin. 

“You don’t have to talk,” he said, his hum starting back up, yours hands resting on his forearms, the throb of your one hand reminding you of what you’d done. You picked up the ice pack that had fallen to your side when Dean had discarded it in favor of taking care of you. “I’m fine,” he said, watching as you bent your arm up as best you could to hold it to his face.

“Let me not be completely useless right now,” you said harshly and Dean relented. You weren’t afraid that he thought it was directed at him. He already knew what the nightmare was about, knew you just needed him to be there for you.

Dean was still for the most part but not rigid. He wanted you to relax into him, trust him. The first night he’d stayed over it was his voice that calmed you. Now it was his presence that filled the air around you. He still wasn’t saying it, that he was protecting you in this moment, but you didn’t know what else to call it as you were burrowed against him.

“Dean?” you asked, some sleepiness coming back to you.

“Yeah kiddo?” he asked, sleep starting to get the better of him as well.

“I never told anyone,” you said, his hand moving to drop the now warm ice pack away and hold yours in it. “I mean I told people but never…a friend.”

“I’m not making you do anything but get a good night’s sleep, Y/N,” he said, nuzzling his body into yours. You could keep it all inside, keep the secret that still gave you terrible nightmares, keep Dean in the dark like everyone else.

“I was a senior. I went to a party after a football game,” you said, Dean taking a deep breath. “I wanted to have fun so I drank because I thought you needed to do that to have fun, thought it was no big deal because I was with friends. There was a guy I liked and we went to his car to make out and…”

“Is this asshole still breathing?” asked Dean, his voice even. He wanted to say more you could tell but held back.

“He got in a car wreck that night after everything…happened…he’s not an issue any more,” you said, finding Dean’s grip on you stronger.

“Good,” said Dean, a little darker than you could have imagined him to be. “Thanks,” he said, feeling you tense up, running his arms up and down yours.

“For what?” you asked, the sweet side of him coming out once more. He didn’t talk, only started up with his humming. You smiled, stopping one of his hands to hold yours, Dean never hesitating to do so. “Because I trust you.”

“G’night, Y/N,” he said quietly, stretching out his legs one last time before you could feel him settle in for good.

“Night, Dean,” you said, listening to Dean struggle to stay awake until you were comfortable enough to sleep again..

Thankfully that took no time at all with him around.

 

You woke up to fingers dancing along your exposed arm. It was almost like they weren’t thinking that you could feel every touch of the rougher skin on you, that you wouldn’t notice it. You didn’t stretch like you wanted and instead let Dean’s hands wander around.

They never went anywhere inappropriate but filled you with a desire nonetheless. But it wasn’t that kind of want. It was simply…wanting more if that made any sense.

“Hey,” you said, voice sleepy. Dean stopped his movements and you wished you hadn’t let him know you were up yet.

“Morning. Sleep okay?” he asked, a hand coming up and ruffling your hair. You ignored it, but not as much as you normally would have. 

“You make a good pillow,” you joked, sitting up and stretching your arms out, letting Dean’s fall from yours. “Do you want to hang out today?” you asked, not turning around. Dean always asked and you didn’t want to feel like he had to do that all the time.

“Only if I can spend the night again,” he said, only a hint of laughter in his voice, everything else serious.

“You don’t have to keep asking, you know,” you said, facing forward. “You’re always welcome.”

“I don’t want to assume. What if you decide to bring someone home one night and he sees me. I wouldn’t want to mess anything up for you,” said Dean, his legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you back down into him.

“I’ve never been the type to bring home guys, Dean. Don’t worry about me so much,” you said, reaching up to pat his shoulder. Dean mumbled before he released you and sat up, heading into the kitchen to make breakfast, leaving you to guess at the million possible things he could have said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader spend another night together…

“I know you’re probably getting sick of pizza so I brought burgers and fries tonight,” said Dean, holding up a paper bag when you opened your front door. 

“Thanks, Dean,” you said, taking the bag from him as he came in and put his things in his spot. You tried not to think about how Dean had a spot in your apartment, that he had a toothbrush in your bathroom, his hoodie was now permanently placed on the back of your couch.

“Why don’t you open it up?” he asked mischievously and you were beaming when you did.

“You’re amazing,” you said, finding something different in the bag. You sat it on the counter and pulled out the two large containers, a pick up order from the restaurant you’d been to Thursday night with the meal you’d gushed over inside. “Here,” you said, moving towards your purse to grab some money to give him.

“Do you really think I’m letting you pay for that?” he asked, crossing his arms. You squinted at him, ready for an argument tonight but Dean simply looked over you. “I’m starving so if we can eat dinner in peace…” he said, walking forward and moving you to sit in one of the chairs at the counter.

“I’ll let it go if I get to take you out somewhere nice this week and pay and you don’t complain. Agreed?” you said, Dean giving you a smile as he sat your food down in front of you.

“Of course,” he said, a tone that told you he wasn’t even trying to hide his lie. You sighed but still dropped it, instead opting for an enjoyable evening with Dean. He hadn’t pushed what had happened the night before after you got up in the morning and had kept quiet about it throughout the day when you texted. But his watch on you was still careful, wanting to know you were okay.

“So you have classes early on Monday’s?” you asked, unsure what time you’d have to get up in the morning.

“Just one at 11. You?” he asked, seeing you smile. You held up a hand in an 0 shape and Dean rolled his eyes. “No classes? How’d you pull that off?”

“Came in with credits and doubled up my first two years. I can graduate early if I want,” you said, seeing something disappointed in Dean’s face. “I wasn’t planning on it though. Maybe take some fun, easy stuff, you know?” 

Dean relaxed as his lips curled up slightly, placing a glass of water in front of you as he took a seat. 

“You want to go to the movies or something tomorrow after your class, grab some dinner on the way home?” you asked, picking at your food.

“You’re making me look forward to a Monday somehow,” he said, his arm brushing up against yours. “And then…”

You chuckled before you leaned over and kissed his cheek, lingering longer than ever before, Dean showing no signs of awkwardness when you willed yourself to pull away. 

“Then you spend the night,” you said, holding up a lone finger. Dean muttered and shook his head about having only one kiss left. You could have sworn he was actually disappointed in the fact. It faded away, just like the little comments you’d catch the other make and fell into a simple conversation over what TV show you should start binging at night.

After dinner Dean changed like always but you’d yet to take a shower that day and knew you needed one. You were in the middle of scrubbing the shampoo out of your hair when you heard a knock on the door.

“Y/N?” Dean asked from the other side.

“Everything okay?” you asked, more concern in your voice than had any reason to be there.

“How much longer you going to be?” he asked, trying to keep his voice happy. 

“I don’t know, ten minutes? Is something wrong?” you asked again. 

“No, I just…” he trailed off as it hit you. You smiled as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself as you opened the door to find an uncomfortable looking Dean on the other side.

“Go ahead,” you said with a smile, stepping past him and into the hall. He seemed frozen in place, his eyes transfixed on you, dripping wet. “You do have to use the bathroom right?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” he said, shaking himself out of it and quickly heading inside. You only waited about a minute before Dean was back, looking better until he saw you again.

“Stomach okay?” you asked before coming to terms that his expression was contorted in that way because you were standing in front of him in nothing more than a towel.

“Just needed to go was all,” he said, waving you back inside. You took longer than ten minutes to finish, longer than fifteen as you debated if you’d rather live with not knowing or potentially ruin your friendship.

The easiest and best friendship you’d had of your life.

“We’re friendly like friends is all,” you said to yourself, deciding against it. Dean was someone who honestly cared about you and that you trusted wholly. You weren’t giving that up on the off chance of something more being there.

You changed into a pair of gray shorts, throwing on a dark maroon tee before you walked out to spot Dean sitting on your couch. He heard you coming as he tossed the hoodie that had been there backwards, your arms reaching out to catch it.

“I’m buying you like ten of those for your birthday,” he said with a laugh as you put it on. The hood fell over your face like normal as you pushed it up, finding that your sleeves had been rolled up for you by someone. 

“Thanks,” you said, ruffling Dean’s hair to mess it up as you walked over. He laughed underneath you and you fought to pull yourself away, even if he liked it. You took a few steps towards your kitchen when Dean was calling for you.

“Already got a snack,” he said, holding up a bowl of pretzels. You hopped over the back of the couch, sitting beside him, his arm falling on top of your shoulders as he put the bowl to the side to cover you with your blanket. “I think I found a good one for us to watch.”

Dean handed you the bowl and took up the remote, scrolling until it stopped on the one you were slightly surprised on.

“There’s only over 200 episodes of that you realize. It’s going to take us forever,” you said, wondering if Dean was aware that he was signing up for a whole lot of sleepovers.

“Say we watch a minimum of two a night, that’ll only take us like half a year,” he said, like the thought of making that commitment was nothing.

“Well let’s get started then,” you said, settling in for the night.

Two episodes turned into six and it was well past midnight when you had finally convinced Dean he needed to sleep.

“Come here,” he mumbled, pulling you down into him, wrapping himself all around you. “I don’t want you to get any more nightmares tonight. I didn’t like the sounds you made.”

You tensed against him, his sleepy admission sending something in you reeling. But he was a friend you reminded yourself, only a friend looking out for you.

“With you here I feel safe, you help keep them away,” you said, admitting for the first time to yourself that you hadn’t slept through the night completely in a long time, not until Dean started staying over.

“I’ll stay then,” he mumbled, not providing anything more as you felt his breathing slow and soft snores fall past his lips.

“Good,” you whispered to yourself, letting his gentle sounds lure you into sleep.

 

“Morning,” you said, the motion of Dean stretching beside you waking you up. He gave you a big smile as his arms fell around you, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Shit,” he said. “That was the last one, wasn’t it?” he said, seeing you hide a grin.

“Nah, you’re still half-asleep,” you said, knowing he was pretty much fully awake. “I’ll give you a do over on your last one later.” Dean seemed relieved, his gaze trailing down to your lips for the briefest of moments before coming back up to your eyes.

“Mind if I steal a bowl of cereal before class?” he asked, shifting to see the clock dangerously close to 11. “Or not,” he groaned, realizing he’d be late if he didn’t get out of there soon.

“Granola bars in the snack cupboard babe,” you said, Dean’s face appearing pleased with the nickname. 

“Thanks,” he said, giving you one last squeeze before releasing you. He rolled off and grabbed a quick breakfast to go, barely in the bathroom a minute before he had his jeans back on. “See you tonight,” he said, giving you a wave as he skipped out the door.

“See you soon, Dean.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the reader decide something needs to change when Dean spends the night again…

The movie had been good. The dinner you brought home had been good. Today should have been a good day. You got to spend time with your best friend who was currently taking a shower in your bathroom. But all you could do was lay on your bed and stare up at the ceiling with something hurting inside.

Dean was singing a song you’d listened to over and over in the car on the way to the amusement park. He said it was stupid at first. Now you caught him humming it or mumbling the chorus to himself all while wearing a silly smile. But it wasn’t about the song.

It was that you were laying on your bed in a pair of pajamas, wearing Dean’s sweatshirt, not even stopping to think about pulling it on. He’d given it to you after you’d stolen it. That was a girlfriend move and you were most certainly not Dean’s girlfriend.

Even if you slept curled up next to him every night, wore his clothes, ate dinner together…you did couple things and it was-

“What’s wrong?” said Dean from your doorway. You held your breath when you realized the water was off, he’d caught you lost in your head and an upset look on your face.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off as you sat up, shrugging everything away. You smiled but Dean only glared. 

“You’re lying,” he said, taking a step inside. His face was hard, like he was upset but hiding it. You decided looking at the bed was a safer option until you heard your door shut and your head snapped up. “Can we talk?”

“Aren’t we talking right now?” you said, avoiding his gaze. Dean huffed as he came into view, taking a seat at the end of your bed, crossing his legs to stare you down.

“Kiddo, something’s bothering you and I want to help,” he said, his hands dangerously close to reaching out and holding yours where they rested against your knees.

“Stop with the nicknames if you want to help,” you said, letting the words come out reluctantly. You loved them but you weren’t together and you were never going to risk your friendship for something that likely wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry,” said Dean, shifting uncomfortably, playing with the bottom of his pants. But then he started to actually think about what you said and he grew confident again. “Do they bother you?”

You didn’t want to answer that. One way it would be a lie and you didn’t like doing that to him. The other was an admission of your feelings and that wasn’t happening either.

“I don’t think I should sleep on your couch anymore,” said Dean. He sounded so natural when he said it, no disappointment laced within the simple words.

“Okay,” you said quietly. You kept your head down, afraid you’d have some expression that would tip him off written all over it. Dean’s hand found it’s way underneath your chin and lightly forced you to look up at him before moving away.

It moved to the back of your neck where it sat, fingers dipping into your hair as Dean leaned forward. Your eyes shut when his lips found yours, soft, full pink lips that sent no sparks through you but calming waves instead. He kept it simple and slow, giving you the chance to end it any time you wanted. His scruff scratched at your cheeks slightly but you liked it. You liked the way your hand had fallen onto his shoulder at some point and was tugging him closer just as much.

When your mouths were sore, when words finally needed to be spoken, Dean pulled away with you.

“I like you,” he said, his hands rubbing up and down your arms before settling on holding your small hands in his large ones. “More than like,  _a lot_  more than like. I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“You did a better job hiding it than I did,” you said, feeling Dean’s hands tense up. “Wait.”

“Up until two seconds ago I thought you were just being nice by kissing me back. You’re always so nice I figured you were humoring me,” he said, looking at you through his lashes. “You…”

“I don’t think you should sleep on my couch anymore,” you said, seeing Dean flinch. You felt bad but hoped what you said next would make it up to him. “My bed is much more comfortable.”

Dean furrowed his brows as you smiled and scooted back to the top of the bed, pulling him with you. You dipped your legs under the sheets when Dean tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips. After you were both settled, Dean’s hand brushed up against yours the same time you were reaching for his.

“This is better,” said Dean, not just talking about your sleeping arrangement.

“Dean, do you-”

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” he said, a blush falling over your cheeks that he seemed to openly like.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted me to get your blanket from the living room,” you said, feeling him pull you closer against him. For the first time you didn’t have to hide your reaction and seeing Dean light up at your smile only made you happier.

“I’ll get them later,” he said, his arm wrapped around your waist instead of your back for once. “I don’t want to miss that smile for one second.”

“Are you going to be a really cheesy, romantic boyfriend?” you said, his eyes shining at the use of that word.

“I don’t know. What kind of boyfriend do you want me to be?” he asked, looking for an honest answer.

“The kind that’s still my best friend,” you said, moving your head closer to his.

“That’s a relief,” he said, nuzzling his head to peck a quick kiss on your lips. “I know we’re in bed and everything but…can we take things slow? I don’t want to push into this too fast.”

“It’ll happen like it’s supposed to happen,” you said, your arm falling over his body. Someday you’d know what it was like to feel his body in a different way but tonight, this was more than enough for you. “You’re always so concerned about me.”

“I want you to be safe and happy. You deserve those things, Y/N,” said Dean, your forehead resting against his, hot breath pooling over your face.

“I am, Dean,” you said. “But this can’t be one sided. You have to let me do that for you too.”

“You do. Please trust me when I say you do,” he said, his green eyes beautiful from this close up.

“I trust you,” you said. “I don’t let just any guy spend the night.”

“I…am not going to say what I really,  _really_  want to and take things slow,” he said, speaking to himself, giving you a shy smile.

“It’s okay. I already know what you want to say,” you said. You tilted your head to brush your lips against his, giving him a short kiss. “I’ll wait to say it too.”

“Y/N?” he asked, his eyes gazing into yours.

“Dean, you’re spending the night from now. You don’t need to ask anymore,” you said, the corners of his eyes creasing up as he grinned.

“I was going to ask you if you needed anything before we go to sleep,” he said. “Already knew I wasn’t sleeping alone ever again.”

“I only needed to hear that,” you said, Dean pulling you even closer if that was possible.

“Good night, Y/N,” he said, so close you could feel his heartbeat against yours. 

“Good night, Dean,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut with the thought that when you awoke, he was going to be there by your side. And that someday soon, he wouldn’t be spending the night in your bed. 

He’d simply be crawling into what would be his bed too.


	8. Sleepover 197

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Takes place six months after the end of Part 7 of Spend the Night…

“Sweetheart,” said Dean, leaning over the back of the couch. He had a big grin plastered on his face. You frowned and stabbed into your frozen yogurt, Dean hopping over the couch and curling up in his spot, making a show out of it before he patted the open spot between his legs.

“Quite thoughtful of you but I am watching a movie,” you said, not really watching the screen. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you over, shifting you around to lie back against his chest. He hummed as you let his arms move around your waist, nuzzling the top of your head with his cheek. “Alright, alright. You know I’m always down for a cuddle.”

You set the rest of the yogurt down on the coffee table, Dean pulling you back to his chest and giving you big kisses on the cheek.

“Alright goofy boy, what is up with you? You’ve been down in the dumps all week and tonight you’re all smiles,” you said. Dean spun you around in your seat, a little giggle escaping you by the time you were sat face to face. Dean only stared, big wide green eyes that were so happy you were smiling despite not being sure of the occasion. “Come on, Dean. Help a girl out.”

“Guess what,” said Dean. He bit his bottom lip and cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the soft skin. “They. Said. Yes.”

“They said yes!” you said, jumping out of your seat, Dean right there with you to pull you back down to the couch. While you were freaking out, he was laughing, kissing you as best he could. “They said…yes! That’s amazing!”

“I mean, we’re totally get booted to the bunk room with Sam whenever my family decides to come up to camp during the summer but we’re not stuck here at school for three months either,” said Dean, pressing his forehead against yours.

“That’s great, Dean,” you said. “Hey, plus you’ll get to hang out with Sam all the time too. I know he misses you.”

“Plus we get to continue our sleepover streak,” he said. You smiled and he laughed, bumping his nose over yours. “You know sleepovers with you are my favorite things.”

“Good thing you moved in, huh?” you said. Dean hummed and adjusted his blanket over the two of you, reaching over to grab the rest of your yogurt. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he said. “So, are you ready for it?”

“I can’t believe we caught up. I don’t know how we’re going to wait until the fall for more episodes,” you said.

“I can find ways to distract you I’m sure,” teased Dean. “Ready?”

“Yup. Let’s bang these last three episodes out.”

 

You stayed up on the couch with Dean after the show was over talking for a while. Eventually it got quiet though and you just sat with one another. Dean was playing with your hair. He’d gotten pretty good at doing a braid actually, letting you bend his legs up and give his feet a massage while he worked.

When you started to get tired, he shifted his legs out to lay and ran his fingers through your hair, undoing his work. You knew you should have gotten up and gone to bed but he was comfy and the couch was warm and then he had to go and do that nuzzle your head under his chin all protectively thing.

You woke up as he picked you up about half an hour later, Dean not saying anything as you shifted closer. He’d gotten pretty strong since you met and it wasn’t often that he would wake you to head to bed on your own when the both of you fell asleep out there. You asked him about it once but he brushed it off and mumbled something about he just liked taking care of you.

He liked to make you feel safe and you had no problem with it. It was pretty hard not to feel that way when you had this sweet boy always standing up for you, even when you were having a bad day and trying to beat yourself down.

You were already snuggling into his side of the bed by the time he’d set you down, Dean rolling you over gently before sliding under the covers with you, bringing you back to his chest.

 

You woke up to Dean a few inches from your face, body lax and soft, no worry on his face. He hadn’t slept well in a few weeks. Finals took it out of him and then the two of you were in a limbo about your summer plans. Dean had been staying overnight since the fall and permanently moved in over the winter break. Neither one of you wanted to leave the other but you knew Dean missed his little brother back home and wanted them to spend time together before Sam started college in the fall, even if Sam was going to the school just down the street.

“Morning,” mumbled Dean without opening his eyes. He stretched out with a yawn, curling back into bed and pulling your arms over himself.

“Morning, sweetie,” you said, throwing your legs over his own too for good measure. “Sleep in some more.”

“‘Kay,” he murmured, jamming his face in your neck and out like a light two seconds later. You watched him be adorable for a few minutes before he shifted in his sleep and you got a little wiggle room.

You were quiet as you slipped out and grabbed some fresh and lazy day clothes out of your closet, changing quietly in the bathroom before you grabbed your bag and left the house, locking up tight after yourself.

It was only a five minute walk onto campus, your little hole in the wall breakfast place busy as usual but the line always went fast.

“Eh, there she is. Leave the troublemaker at home today?” asked Mike, at the counter like he was every Saturday. “Winchester sweetheart special for two?”

“Yeah. Throw in two extra average joe’s too,” you said.

Ten minutes later you were walking in the front door with the food, Dean padding into the kitchen in his boxers with a sleepy smile and hair that was defying gravity.

“Mmm, I love Saturdays,” he said, helping you with the bag. “Amazingly greasy breakfast food delivered straight to my door by this really hot girl in my T-shirt. Don’t get much better than that.”

“Uh, this is my shirt now. You lost this shirt a long time ago,” you said, washing up your hands with a smile.

“Why do you think I walk around in just my underwear?” he asked. “I lost all my clothes.”

“I could take those too if you want?” you teased.

“Later. Right now this breakfast deserves our full attention,” he said. He only made it about two minutes into it though before he let one of his hands trail down to his side, searching for your hand and holding it lightly in his lap.

“You okay, babe?” you asked, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“I’m prefect,” he said with a smile. “Sleepover tonight?”

“Another one? I’d love too, Dean.”


End file.
